Prologue *Unedited draft*
Damn, I’m pumped! Adrenaline and endorphins rage through my veins and I know I’m not going to get any sleep tonight but I don’t care. There are multiple things I can do to fill the hours and I plan on making good use of those multiples. Emily sits next to me in my Impala and I can’t wait to get my hands on her. I want to take everything I’m feeling, every single emotion running through me from seeing her in the front row at the concert, and pump it into her, because words just won’t cut it tonight. Emily’s been to shows before—hundreds of them—but she’s always been backstage, watching from the sidelines. Tonight, she was front and center and although I was standing in front of 20,000 fans, I was singing every single word to her.
As part of the show, I do this bit where I bring a girl onstage and sing to just her. I dance with the girl, hold her hand, let her kiss me on the cheek. The crowd goes fucking crazy for it and the girl gets an experience she can hold onto forever. I’m not trying to be a conceited prick here, I know from experience how great it feels to have a moment with your favorite band. And because of that moment, I want to give back to my fans and show them how much it means to me to be doing what I love every day of my life.
The girl on stage with me tonight was shaking so hard I could feel her hand vibrating in mine as I sang to her. I’ll be honest; it’s a breath of fresh air to get the sweet ones on stage. I never used to pick them, I’d leave that up to security but that almost always resulted in me nearly getting dry-humped. This girl was on the opposite side of the spectrum. The longer she was up there, the more she shook. Eventually, when it came to the part where I dance with the her, I gave her a twirl, took her into my arms and whispered to her that I was nervous too. She calmed down a beat after that and totally stole the show by singing back to me and performing like a natural. When she ran back to her friends at the end of the performance, you couldn’t tell who was beaming more, her or me. That part of the show always brings back my first concert experience and the nostalgia was bittersweet.
Prologue *Unedited draft. Trigger warnings in comments to prevent spoilers*
I stare at the sodden toilet paper, the scarlet stain bringing bile to my throat as fear constricts my chest. As if on autopilot, I discard the toilet paper and pull more off the roll, closing my eyes and willing a different result with everything I have. Tears sting and a wave of nausea washes over me as an even darker stain mocks me. I don’t know why Simon springs to mind in this moment, but suddenly it is three weeks ago and I’m back at Simon’s apartment heaving into the toilet.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and rest my forehead on my arms. This is disgusting, I should move, I know I should, but I just don’t have the energy. At first, I thought I had food poisoning from the snacks backstage and then I thought it might be a bug, but when I mentioned it to Sam, she pointed out that no one else had been experiencing symptoms and then, ever-the-logical one, pointed out that I only had one symptom.
I raise my head and look at the pregnancy test lying next to me on the floor, my relief paramount, and that in itself is telling.
Only one line.
Another wave of nausea washes through me and I vomit spectacularly into the bowl. I don’t hear the footsteps approaching over the sound of my gagging, but I can’t miss the anger in Simon’s tone.
I manage to stop vomiting, inhaling deep breaths through my nose and exhaling out my mouth as I watch Simon swipe the test off the floor. He stares at it, his face blotching an angry red, and then he waves the test at me like a weapon.
“What the fuck is this, Hayley?”
Oh my word, I hit the button and Cliché is up for preorder!
Writing has always felt like I’m standing in front of a crowd in my beige granny panties, slightly tipsy and my brain-to-mouth filter broken. To be fair my brain-to-mouth filter is mostly always broken but there’s nowhere to hide when you write—at least for me. But I love it! I love every moment of it and I’m getting to live my dream by seeing my book up for preorder on Amazon.
Now, excuse me while I collapse on the couch with a glass of wine!
Amazon US https://amzn.to/2sIQhmK
Amazon UK https://amzn.to/2JrgeSu
Amazon AU https://amzn.to/2sTLEFS
Amazon EU https://amzn.to/2xZGgHc
I was giddy with excitement. Kevin had been away on location in Nepal for the last three months, which was the longest we’d gone without seeing one another. But worse than that, for the last two months we hadn’t even had an opportunity to talk on the phone, or text, for that matter. Now that he was nearly here, I couldn’t wait a minute longer.
Alison placed the yellow tulips on the coffee table in the charter lounge and looked over at me, her green eyes sparkling with barely contained enthusiasm. “That’s the last of them.” She blew her auburn curls out of her eyes. “Do celebrities always have such crazy demands?”
I looked around the lounge and stifled a smile. A dozen bunches of tulips dotted every available surface and Turkish Delights lined a bowl next to a bottle of lime milkshake.
I hid the smile tugging at my lips. “This is nothing.”